By Your Side
by The-Grim-Prince
Summary: Arthur falls sick with a serious case of pneumonia. Alfred takes it upon himself to help his friend get better, definitely setting them up for unintentional trouble. Fluff, AmericaxEngland. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

(( Hi! Welcome to my Hetalia fanfic! I've written several, but this is the one I decided that was worthy to be posted (I guess). I might post the others…

Anyways, this fic is pretty much fluff. I don't really have the patience to try and fit my idea into history. I just wanted to write this story. Hope you don't mind!

Initiating chapter one… now! ))

…

…

America had left for the hospital as soon as he heard. He bought the first plane ticket for the next flight, and then nearly got into a car accident at first when he forgot about the change in which side of the road to drive on. He stole someone's parking spot as they were just backing into the space.

Having run all the way from the lot to the building, Alfred stopped in front of the receptionist's main desk while gasping for precious air. The main receptionist eyed him suspiciously as he grasped the edge of the desk, doubled over.

Suddenly, he snapped his head up to look at her. "Looking… for Arthur," he said forcefully, invoking a small jump from the girl.

She knew what he meant, not needing a last name or additional information. "Up the stairs to the right," she hesitantly said, pointing to the doors leading to the stairwell, "Then down the hall and around the corner. Second room on the left."

He nodded determinedly, then rushed off in the direction given to him. As soon as he reached the second floor, America slowed his pace to a fast walk in respect for those around him.

Though, he soon reached a dilemma. A four-way intersection of hallway. He looked from side to side, trying to figure out if he had to go around the right corner or the left. Spotting an old nurse coming his way, he grabbed her attention. Thankfully, his breath was pretty much caught now.

"Can you tell me where Arthur's room is?" he asked her, a bit panicked.

She motioned towards the left hallway while giving him a bored stare, replying, "Just that way. Second door to the left. He should be asleep right now, so don't wake him, sir."

Alfred walked past her, nervous now. He finally came to the right room, of which's door was slightly cracked open. Silently, he let himself in. Stepping in fully, he pushed the door back to the position it had previously been in. The lights in the room were out, the shades of the windows partially pulled down to limit the amount of sunlight let in.

Alfred's expression softened as he laid eyes upon the hospital bed in front of him. Sleeping peacefully was England, hooked up with an IV while slightly propped up by the elevated head end of the bed and a pillow.

Alfred snuck over to the other side of Arthur, next to the window. He took a seat in the single empty chair there, and stared at the ailing man. Now that he was closer, Alfred noticed that Arthur was actually heavily flushed with fever, and having a bit of trouble breathing normally.

America sighed, reclining a bit in the stiff chair. He quietly shrugged off his jacket, knowing that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to leave anytime soon. After that phone call from a doctor, Alfred had pushed his friend to the top of his priority list.

America's new phone number written on a scrap of paper was retrieved from Arthur's pocket when he was admitted earlier that day. Over the phone, the doctor told him that England was suffering from a relatively serious case of pneumonia. Apparently, it had developed after a bout of influenza. Such an occurrence, pneumonia resulting from the flu, had a tendency to happen often. Fortunately, he received treatment just in time.

Alfred looked away, thinking to himself. _It's been almost two weeks since…_

…

In the late afternoon, Arthur started to stir. Shifting a bit under the blankets, his eyes cracked open in confusion. He stared with his vision swimming at the ceiling, trying to gain his bearings. It was different from the one at home…

Suddenly, the memories of this morning came flooding back. He cringed, bringing his hand up to his unnaturally hot forehead to wipe away a few droplets of sweat. Arthur paused halfway, realizing something out of the norm in the hospital room.

He noticed Alfred at his side, sitting in the chair. His elbow was rested on his knee, his cheek on his hand, as he dozed in a slouched-over position.

Arthur looked at him, still only vaguely coherent. He must have been there for a while, judging by the cast-off coat and the relaxed (?) form.

"Oi," Arthur hoarsely let out. He tried to reach over for him, but came just short of touching America's knee. He shifted a bit more to continue his attempt as Alfred slowly came to, sensing a disturbance.

"Hey, you're awake," he responded with a dumb smile.

Arthur retracted his hand, bringing it back down to rest by his side. Looking a bit perturbed, he nodded.

"I heard that you were sick, so I came right over to visit," Alfred explained. "Maybe I should have picked up some flowers on the way…"

"… 'Don't like flowers," Arthur quietly said. Though, it wasn't completely true. He just felt a bit awkward by having America see him like this.

"Or maybe some hamburgers," Alfred added, seemingly failing to hear what his friend said. "They make me feel better whenever anything happens."

"… 'Don't like those either," he replied. His stomach felt a bit uneasy at the moment.

"So, how are you feeling?" Alfred asked right away.

England sighed, knowing that America probably didn't hear his negativity. "I'm fine," he lied, using a lot of effort to keep his eyes open.

Alfred shot him a skeptical look. "You don't look like it," he observed aloud. He reached over to lightly feel Arthur's forehead. "I heard that you have a fever of 104.2 degrees."

Not feeling well enough to convert that from Fahrenheit to Celsius, he settled on the fact that it must be bad. Plus, having Alfred's hand on his forehead was a bit distracting. Arthur could feel his face growing hotter than before, if possible, for some reason.

He turned his head the other way to shake off America's touch. "Stop it," he mumbled angrily. Arthur broke out into a coughing fit. He felt a bit dejected, feeling it reach down past his throat to his lungs. It sounded horrible, and was hard to stop.

Alfred flinched with a look of worry, wondering if he should go get help.

After calming back down, Arthur quietly asked, "Why… are you… here?"

"Like I said earlier. I came to visit you," Alfred answered with a reassuring smile. "Can't a friend do that?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at America.

"But maybe you should go back to sleep. Get some rest, you know?" Alfred suggested. He stood up, stretching the tightness built in his muscles from sitting so long. "I'm going to get something to eat, since it's around dinnertime. Want me to get anything for you?"

Arthur slowly shook his head no. What he wanted was sleep. And peace of mind.

Alfred sighed. "Okay. I'll be back eventually," he said with another reassuring smile. He walked over to the door leading to the hallway. Yet, before leaving the room, Alfred added, "Oh, by the way, don't worry. I'm going to help you get better. Even if I have to stay at your house until you're completely well again, taking care of your every need." America looked determined. He quickly slipped out to let England get his rest.

Arthur stared at the now empty space in disbelief.

America? Taking care of him? With that thought bouncing back and forth in his mind, he actually had serious trouble with falling back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

(( Hi! Welcome to Chapter 2! Not quite sure how many chapters in total it will be yet…

Anyways, please don't forget to review! I need your input and critique. It drives me to work harder and actually update. I'm not expecting big, long messages, though. Don't worry. (though that would be nice, lol)

So, I hope you enjoy the next installment! Chapter 2, initiating now! ))

:::

"He needs plenty of bed rest in a comfortable environment. Make sure he gets plenty of liquids, like water and tea, to drink. Follow the instructions on the prescription bottle closely, as he needs to take all of the medication. And I would recommend a heating pad for chest pains, and a humidifier to keep the air from getting too dry," the doctor instructed, as Alfred listened closely.

Arthur sighed from his place on the edge of his bed. Why was he giving instructions to America? He finished buttoning up his light jacket, now back into the clothes he was wearing when brought to the hospital. It seemed like they had been cleaned since yesterday morning, though.

It was in the early afternoon of the next day, and England just wanted to go home to get some sleep. Without the blankets covering him, he felt so cold. The room was a normal temperature, but his fever made it feel like he was outside in snow with only a long-sleeved shirt on.

Suddenly, Alfred came to stand in front of him. "Ready to go?" he asked with a smile.

Arthur stood up, narrowing his eyes at the overly cheery man. "Yeah…" he let out, feeling a bit irritable.

"Do you need me to get a wheelchair?"

"No!"

Within a few minutes, they were heading out the front door. It was another chilly November day, with a bit of a breeze.

Out of nowhere, Arthur felt something heavy drop onto his shoulders. Confused, he looked around to see what the offending source was. Next to him was Alfred. Strangely, he was missing his coat. Did he forget it? No, he was wearing it when they left.

Then, Arthur pieced it together through his lack of coherency. He looked down to see Alfred's coat wrapped around himself.

"I don't need it," he complained, glaring at America.

"Nonsense! You're shivering. You need it more than I do," he said with his usual goofy smile.

Arthur hadn't noticed that fact. He didn't say anything else to protest, a bit surprised by his uncharacteristic perceptiveness and gesture. Alfred seemed a bit different right now. It was a bit… confusing.

Before he knew it, they were standing beside the car. It must have been a rental, judging by the license plate. Alfred opened the passenger side door for Arthur. Completely docile for the moment, he just got in without complaint. As Alfred closed the door and went to the driver's side, Arthur pulled the warm jacket tighter around him.

It smelled like fast food… Oddly enough, it was a bit of a comforting smell.

Now I'm delusional, Arthur thought to himself with a sigh. The car started to move out of the parking lot, America heading in the direction of England's house.

They were quiet for a little while, since Arthur was preoccupied with trying not to fall asleep with his forehead against the window.

"What would you like for dinner when you get home?" Alfred asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not hungry…" Arthur quietly responded with a cough.

"You probably haven't eaten in two days now! That's no good," America persisted.

"Three days. I wasn't feeling well enough to make anything myself."

Alfred frowned at his worriedly. "Did you have any help?"

Arthur sighed, not really caring about what he told America. "My friends are no good with modern kitchenware. The unicorn and twin sprites tried to convince me to go to the doctor."

"Well, why didn't you listen to them?!" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Arthur's eyes widened at the man's response. He glanced at America, who still had his eyes on the road. Usually Alfred would poke fun at him or say that the mythical people weren't real. This reaction… was extremely unusual. Arthur felt himself blush a bit, actually ashamed that he had worried America that much.

After a while, they finally reached the beautifully built two-story house. Arthur had nodded off not too long ago.

Alfred lightly shook his shoulder to try and wake him up, though he felt bad for doing so. Well, the doctor did say that he would be better off resting in bed. America got out of the car and went to England's side, carefully opening the door so that he wouldn't fall out.

"Need any help getting inside?" he asked Arthur, who was still half-asleep.

"No…" he replied groggily. They took it slow getting inside, Arthur holding his friend's coat close to his body to protect himself from the cold. He made sure to hand it back when they got through the door.

"Maybe you should sleep in one of the downstairs guest rooms," Alfred suggested, knowing that his room was on the second floor.

"I want to be in my own bed," Arthur replied bitterly.

"Do you need help getting up the stairs?"

"No." He felt really woozy, but he would just have to be careful.

Alfred watched him as he went up the staircase, just to make sure he didn't fall. Soon, all was quiet. He heard rough coughing a bit, but not much could be done about that. Alfred dug the medicine out of his coat's pocket to read the instructions. Two pills every day, one in the morning, one at night, okay to take with meals.

That didn't sound too hard. It was a good thing they could be taken with meals, since Alfred desperately needed to get some food into Arthur A.S.A.P.

He went straight to the kitchen to see what he had to work with. Alfred went rummaging through all the cabinets and the fridge. Judging by how little there was, it seemed that Arthur hadn't gone grocery shopping in a while. Probably not since before he contracted the flu.

America sighed, feeling a bit bad. He went back into the cabinet to retrieve a can of condensed chicken noodle soup.

…

Arthur was awakened by the sound of knocking on his door less than an hour after he had laid down. With a hint of annoyance in his voice, he answered, "Come in."

Sure enough, it was America. Balancing a tray on one hand so he could open the door, he came in with a confident expression on his face. "I made some soup for you, and brought some water with the medication," he said, setting the try down on the bedside table.

Arthur sat up to take a pill and a swig from the filled water bottle. Replacing the bottle on the table with a few coughs, he went back to lay down facing the other way.

"You didn't even touch your dinner," Alfred complained.

With a sigh, Arthur looked over his shoulder. He reached out and tapped the edge of the bowl, then made himself comfortable in his previous position. "There. I touched it," he grumbled.

Alfred narrowed his eyes at him like some child. "That's not what I meant. Wait… are you still in your regular clothes?"

Arthur groaned in resonse.

"That's no good! You can't get really comfortable like that," Alfred chastised him. He instantly went over to Arthur's armoire to look through all the drawers for pajamas.

"Hey! Don't go through my stuff!" Arthur sat up to complain, but broke out into a coughing fit. All of this was making his chest hurt. He looked up when he felt something drop on his legs.

Alfred had picked out some nightwear for him and put it at the foot of his bed. Now the man was grabbing the water bottle and unscrewing the cap. He quickly handed it to Arthur, who sat up to take it and gulp down some. He calmed down quite a bit, able to breathe now.

America felt England's forehead. He was still boiling up. "Change into your pj's and get some sleep. I'll leave the soup in case you get hungry. And make sure to drink the water."

Compliantly, Arthur nodded. Alfred ruffled his hair, then left the room, closing the door behind himself. Arthur put the water bottle back on the table and went to get dressed into more comfortable clothes. He could feel his heart beating a mile a minute. And had a sinking feeling that it wasn't from not being able to breathe.

…

The next morning, the house was completely quiet. Arthur lay in bed, not being able to hear a thing. Was America awake? Or…

"England! England! You're back!" he heard. All of his friends came through the door. All of his 'imaginary' friends (according to the other nations).

"We were so worried," the gnome said, looking concerned.

"It would be horrible if something bad happened," the fairy said, perching on his bedpost.

"I'll be fine, guys," Arthur replied with a smile. He spotted the brownie standing nearby the spirit. "Thank you for calling an ambulance."

The brownie blushed. "I'm sorry, they couldn't hear me like you can. But I thought they would be able to tell where the call was coming from."

"It was a good idea," Arthur praised him.

"It was my idea first!" a sprite added. She always liked to take credit for things, though managed to be cute anyways. "I convinced him to use the phone, since I'm too small for the buttons."

Arthur chuckled. "I owe my thanks to all of you." Though, something was bothering him.

"What's wrong?" the unicorn asked, noticing the expression on his face.

"Well…" England thought for a few seconds. "I-Is there anyone else here?"

They all looked at each other, confused. "No, only us," a few answered in unison.

"Are you talking about America?" the spirit asked. "He left hours ago."

Arthur sighed. Suddenly, he heard a growling noise. He jumped a bit, looking around. "What was that?"

"I think that was your stomach telling you that you're hungry," the fairy giggled.

Arthur became aware of a bit of gnawing pain. His appetite seemed to have returned. The soup on the side table had to be bad by now, though.

And America wasn't around anymore.

He sat up, wrapping his quilt tightly around him. "I'm going to make some lunch," he said, noticing that it was close to 11am.

"Should you be out of bed, though?" the twin sprites asked.

"It can't be helped," Arthur sighed. He slowly made his way out of the room, feeling a bit chilly now. His friends stayed close behind to keep an eye on him. He shuffled to the kitchen, and went straight to the cabinets with canned soup. Starting to feel a bit dizzy, he grabbed the counter for support. The quilt slipped off a bit.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" the spirit asked.

"It's okay. I don't want you guys to hurt yourselves," he said with a hesitant smile. Arthur continued his business after pulling the quilt back up. He noticed that Alfred had left a bit of a mess on the stove and counter. Heaving a sigh, he grabbed a clean pot.

He continued getting things ready. Though, he didn't know how much longer he would make it. Everything was swaying back and forth as he felt colder and colder. Which wasn't helping his cough.

Finally, Arthur was able to get the pot with soup on the stove. It would probably be a good idea to slice up an apple to eat. He went to the fridge to retrieve a Golden Delicious apple from the fruit drawer, then a knife from the drawer nearby. On the open counter, he started to carve it up. His hand shaky, it was really hard to cut it in half. Not to mention, the quilt was falling again.

The knife went straight through the center of the apple after a bit of applied effort. Arthur felt a small sense of accomplishment. But that was soon washed away by a harsh, stinging feeling.

Arthur noticed a cut on the end of his index finger. He just stared as the blood swelled out of the deep incision. He knew he should do something, but couldn't think straight. He was frozen in place as the red liquid spilled onto the counter.

Suddenly, someone grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to the sink. His hand was pulled under the faucet and cold water was run over his bleeding finger. Arthur was vaguely aware of someone rushing around behind him. Quickly, his finger was pulled out of the water and dried off. Before it could start gushing again, a large band-aid was wrapped around it.

Gently, Arthur was guided away from the kitchen. He spotted several bags of groceries and a few boxes dropped on the floor in the doorway of the kitchen. He was brought over to sit down on the living room couch as the quilt was wrapped around him fully.

Arthur now found himself right at Alfred, who had his hands on his friend's shoulders. Arthur became aware that he was trying to talk to him, looking a bit panicked.

"-you okay? Arthur, are you alright?" he asked.

"Eh? … You're back," England said distantly.

"Of course! You think I'd leave you when you were like this?" Alfred responded, with a reassuring smile.

Arthur looked away, a bit ashamed.

"Hold on a second," Alfred said, patting him on the shoulder. He left Arthur alone, bringing the bags into the kitchen.

He sat there, warming up, as Alfred seemed to be making himself busy in the kitchen. Not too long after, America came back with a mini foldable table, and opened it in front of Arthur.

He left again, then came back with a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, and the medication. Also, he had a new, evenly cut apple. "Be careful," Alfred warned. "The soup is still a bit hot."

Arthur absentmindedly nodded in acknowledgement. Alfred smiled and retreated back to the kitchen. England started eating slowly. It was good to finally eat again. The soup was cool by the time that he finished half of the apple.

Alfred came back with a blanket. "I got one of those heated blankets," he said, proudly. "I think it's supposed to help with your chest. But you can't use it overnight."

"… Alright," Arthur quietly said.

They sat together as Alfred switched on the tv. He channel-surfed for a bit until Arthur glared at him to make him pick a channel and stay on it. When he was finished eating, Alfred set up the blanket for Arthur, laying it on his chest as he relaxed backwards a bit and switched it on.

Alfred brought the dirty dishes back to the kitchen.

He came back not too long after, and sat back beside Arthur. They watched tv in silence for an hour or two. It didn't take much time for Arthur to fall asleep, though.

He winced in his sleep as Alfred went to feel his forehead again. Fortunately, his temperature seemed to go down a bit since he last checked. Debating on whether he should leave him be for a while or take him back to his room, Alfred decided on the latter.

He silently and gingerly switched off the blanket and rolled it up to the side. He then wrapped the quilt around Arthur a bit tighter. He was practically dead to the world at this point.

With a tender smile, America slipped one arm under England's shoulder and another beneath the underside of his knees. "Up we go," he quietly grunted, lifting up Arthur. He stirred a bit, cuddling up to Alfred's body warmth, but stayed asleep.

As slowly and as gingerly as he could, Alfred carried Arthur back up to his room.

:::

(( That's the conclusion of chapter 2! Thanks for reading. Again, please drop me a comment. I want to know what you think! (shameless pestering) ))


	3. Chapter 3

(( Heyo, sorry for the delayed update. I had a little trouble coming up with ideas, and I've been studying for finals. Ugh…

There should be another 2 or so chapters of this. I never have a plan when it comes to the number of chapters I make in a story. It just sort of happens.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the next installment! Chapter 3, commence! ))

:::

America quietly peeked through England's bedroom door. It was almost 11 in the morning, and he hadn't seemed to move much since the first few times Alfred checked up on him. He would cough a bit, but not wake up.

He crept over to Arthur's bedside, retrieving a thermometer from his pocket. Hesitantly, Alfred poked his side to see what sort of reaction he would receive.

Nothing.

Worriedly, he readied the thermometer and gingerly stuck it through Arthur's lips. Alfred held it there, not willing to find out if it would stay there by itself.

He just sat there, on the edge of the bed, staring at England.

"_You're always wrapped up in being a bloody hero! It's annoying!" Though, his voice was slurred from the influence of alcohol. Namely, at least 5 bottles of beer._

"_Hahaha, you know that's untrue!"_

"_It's true and you know it!"_

"_Will you pay attention to me? Stop playing around with that!"_

_America laughed._

"_I'll make you pay attention to me-"_

Alfred winced slightly, remembering what ensued after that 'promise'. Though, he couldn't help but crack a slight smile. England was so forward at the strangest times.

He then sighed, remembering the full two weeks where he hadn't heard from Arthur. The whole time, Alfred had wondered if he was avoiding him from being ashamed or embarrassed of what he had done. He knew there was a chance of England not remembering anything in the morning due to how thoroughly drunk he was. But two weeks was a long time to not hear from Arthur.

It was really distressing to find out that he was actually sick that entire time. And that he didn't tell America about it. True, he asserted the fact that he was just as independent as the younger was. But after contracting another illness after his immune system was recovering from the flu… America felt a little bit hurt that England didn't let him know. Being a hero, he was ready to help just about anyone in trouble.

Before getting too lost in his thoughts and reasoning, Alfred withdrew the thermometer from Arthur's mouth. He didn't seem to notice a thing, but gave another cough or two.

102.1 degrees F. It wasn't 105 anymore, but it was still wasn't good. If this kept up, Alfred would have to take him back to the hospital.

Lightly, he shook Arthur's shoulder to try and rouse him from his sleep. "Wake up. You have to take your medicine," he quietly said.

After a few seconds, he opened his eyes to warily look at Alfred.

"Are you hungry?" America asked. Arthur slowly shook his head.

Had he lost his appetite again? "I might have to take you to a doctor. Is that okay?" Alfred pressed, getting a pill from the bottle on the bedside table and the waterbottle he had left there.

Although he didn't say no, he didn't look very happy about the prospect of that happening. Though, he compliantly let Alfred put the medication in his mouth and help him drink the water to wash it down.

"I feel gross," he finally said in a cracking voice. He was a bit sweaty. "I want to take a shower…"

"That's not a good idea right now. You could hurt yourself, and you should let your fever go down first." He looked even unhappier now, from being told what to do.

Although, maybe drawing a bath wouldn't be such a bad idea. "Hold that thought," America said, determinedly. He rushed off out of the room.

…

About ten minutes later, the bathtub down the upstairs hall was filled with lukewarm water. America pulled England's shirt off for him as he gave a shiver, then went to pull down his pants. "You can handle the rest now, right?" he asked, fully realizing that there was a slight blush on his own face.

Arthur nodded, now only in his underwear.

"I'll be outside. Just yell if you need anything, and I'll come flying to your rescue," America said. He left the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked open. Taking a seat outside nearby, he could hear the other getting into the water while trying to keep from coughing too much. Hopefully it would cool him down a bit.

About ten minutes has passed now, and Alfred was starting to worry a bit. What if Arthur had passed out and drowned?!

Making up his mind in no time at all, he got up and threw open the door while saying, "I'll save you!"

Though, he froze after realizing that nothing bad had happened in his absence. England was just dozing off a bit, relaxed back against the tub. Alfred sighed. So much time spent resting in bed, and he was still falling asleep everywhere.

Noticing some shampoo still stuck in Arthur hair, Alfred rolled up his sleeves. He cupped some water with his hands and dumped it on the spots with bubbles, rubbing the soap out. Either England didn't mind, or he didn't notice. Finally, when he was free of clinging shampoo, America reached to pull out the drain plug. He couldn't help but note that Arthur was still in his underwear.

Now that most of the water was gone, he grabbed a nearby towel to dry off his friend. Arthur grumbled a bit when America was being a bit too rough in drying his hair.

With a smile, Alfred loosened up a bit. He wrapped the towel around England's shoulders and helped him stand up.

"Do I need to carry you again?" America teased. He was prepared just in case that needed to be done.

"Again?" Arthur let out, looking confused.

"You were asleep last night, after all," America thought aloud. "You sure couldn't get up the stairs to your room yourself." He grinned goofily.

A deep blush spread across Arthur's face as he pouted in embarrassment. He stepped out of the tub on his own and followed Alfred down the hall back to his room.

As America went through the drawers to get a fresh change of clothes, England weakly dried himself off more. He was given some new pajamas and underwear, then left alone to get dressed.

…

"I want to watch tv," Arthur asserted, leaving his room to run into Alfred in the hallway. He gave a few deep coughs again.

Alfred was going to suggest a bit more bedrest, but then remembered the few times when England nursed him back to health when he was younger. _I want to play. I want to go outside. I want some cake. I don't want to stay in bed. I want you to tell me a story._

With a bit of a smile, he answered, "Sure."

They made their way downstairs and to the living room, where England made himself comfortable on the couch with the remote. He then noticed America holding out the thermometer to him.

"Do me a favor?" he asked pleadingly.

With a groan, Arthur took it and stuck it under his tongue while turning his attention to a program on about the history of Monty Python.

When he handed it back, Alfred read the temperature to himself. 100.4 degrees F.

It looked much better than before. Arthur still sounded sick, but at least his fever wasn't as high.

"I'll go make some lunch," America offered.


	4. Chapter 4

(( Hello! Welcome to the next chapter! I would say that there is about one more left after this one. So sad… But I'm planning on writing a short, bonus chapter in the end. What it is about will be a surprise!

Anyways, if you have any ideas or requests, feel free to drop some to me! I can write something good for you. Don't worry, I give full credit to the person who comes up with idea.

Onwards, to chapter 4! Commence! ))

:::

The next morning was just a little bit different.

Arthur found himself close to fully awake around 10:50am. Though he was still a bit groggy, he sat up to look about his room while rubbing the sleepy dust from his eyes. After taking his medication, which was left with a water bottle on the side table, Arthur reached over for the fleece blanket at the foot of his bed. He wrapped it a bit over his shoulders and his back, draping the ends over his arms to keep it from falling, like a shawl or a shrug.

England decided that he was definitely feeling a bit better. At least, better than yesterday or the day before. That nasty cough still lingered, and he felt a bit warm, but it wasn't too bad. He left his room then carefully made his way downstairs. He was surprised that Alfred hadn't come to bother him yet. He had kept that annoying habit that children have, of waking up as soon as the sun had risen and running around.

Arthur walked into the living room to see America reclined back across the couch, using his jacket as a blanket to cover his torso. He walked over to his side, wrinkling his nose at the fact that the other was so lazy. There were two guest rooms downstairs that were perfectly fine.

This kid… he was just so troublesome. Yet at the same time, he had the potential to be quite useful.

Arthur sighed. At least he didn't go completely wrong while raising him. Before Alfred could wake up, Arthur tenderly planted a light kiss on his forehead. He withdrew with a frown, and went to carefully feel the other's forehead with his palm. Alfred felt a bit warm…

England sighed again. He hadn't noticed whether or not the kid had taken good care of himself over the past few days. Without hesitation, he yanked on Alfred's arm. He woke up slightly, and obediently got to his feet as his jacket fell off.

"Where are we going?" he mumbled questioningly.

"Just come on," Arthur said. He pulled him to one of the guest rooms, without turning the light on. He then shoved America onto the bed, and helped him get comfortable. Pulling the sheets and blanket over him, Arthur could see that he was already asleep again.

"Honestly…" England muttered, leaving the room and partially closing the door behind himself.

His living room furniture wasn't exactly known for its comfort, being that it was antique. It was fine for watching TV or just relaxing a bit, but sleeping?

He went to the kitchen to possibly prepare some brunch for the two of them. Arthur happily noted that he wasn't as dizzy or disoriented as the last time that he was in this room.

"Good morning! What are you making?" he heard from behind him. England looked over his shoulder to see that the unicorn and the fairy had joined him in the kitchen.

"I'm not really sure," he said with a smile. "I was thinking of scrambling some eggs and making toast."

The fairy flew over to stand on the counter in front of him. "You're not going to push yourself and get really sick like last time, are you?" she chastised, putting her hands on her hips accusingly.

Arthur chuckled, and replied, "Don't worry. I feel much better today."

"You promise?" the unicorn asked, going to stand beside him.

"I promise. If I start to get a bit woozy, I'll take a break and sit down," he offered.

"I'm going to watch you, just to make sure," the fairy informed him, as the unicorn nodded in agreement.

"You should make some bacon, too," the unicorn suggested. "Do you think you could manage that?"

"Shouldn't be too hard," England responded, going to look in the fridge. "Although it would be easier to make if I _had_ any bacon…" He rummaged around in the fridge to see what he did have. He hadn't gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so a majority of the food was from Alfred's shopping. Arthur noticed some uncooked hamburger meat in the back, giving him an idea. "How about scrambled eggs and hamburger?" he asked.

His friends went silent, looking a bit nervous. "Well… I haven't heard of it before. But it could work," the fairy half-encouraged. It just reeked of bad idea, though.

Arthur gave a determined nod, pulling out all the ingredients he needed.

…

As England was gathering the finished dishes of food on the table, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to see America slowly coming to join him, rubbing his squinting eyes in the light.

"What are you doing?" he sleepily asked, looking a bit surprised and confused.

"I was hungry and you were asleep. So I made some brunch for us. But I did this for my benefit, not yours," Arthur explained. He looked a bit tired from the activity, yet proud at the same time.

"You shouldn't have!" Alfred said with a smile. He looked down to see what the other had made. "Really… You shouldn't have," he added.

The eggs baffled him. There were chunks of meat amongst slightly overcooked scrambled eggs. Was it hamburger? And the toast was a bit burnt. For a second, he had forgotten how horrible Arthur's cooking was.

He looked up to see England looking rather proud of himself, handing a plate to America. Alfred sighed to himself in his head, and took the plate. He was so close to making a comment about the quality of the meal, but actually held his tongue for once.

…

It was horrible… Hamburger and scrambled egg definitely did not mix. At least, not when England cooked it. Alfred took care of the dishes for Arthur as he relaxed in the living room a bit. Finishing up, he went to join him.

"By the way," America started as he walked into the room, "Why did you shove me into the guest room?"

"Because you were sleeping on my sofa, idiot. It's nice furniture, you would ruin it," he said, annoyed. Arthur coughed a bit. He then mumbled to the side, "And I can't have you getting sick, too."

Alfred stared at him for a second or two. "You know, I still feel tired. You look tired, too," he said, a grin spreading across his face. England frowned at him with suspicion.

Suddenly, in what seemed like a blink of the eye, Alfred was next to him. He scooped Arthur up in his arms, bridal style like the night before last. England was dumbfounded as America started to walk back to the guest room.

"Oi, oi! What are you doing?!" Arthur demanded to know, going red in the face.

"Going to bed," Alfred simply replied. As England was about to protest, he was flopped down on the bed in the dim room. America fell beside him, pulling the covers over the both of them.

As Arthur started to sit up, Alfred pulled him back down and draped an arm over him.

"Let me go! What are you trying to pull?!"

"You used to sleep with me years and years ago when I got sick. You still need to rest." He turned onto his side to pull Arthur close to him, like a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you were smaller then!" He tried to wiggle free.

"Well… Arthur is a bit smaller than me. So it should be okay, since I'm returning the favor."

England scowled, annoyed by the fact that America reminded him that he was smaller, even though he was older. He wiggled harder, pounding the other's chest in anger to make him let go. "Release me, you bloody moron!"

Arthur paused, hearing a snore. He looked up to see that Alfred had fallen asleep, despite the ruckus England was causing over this situation. He sighed with a frown, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

Well, though he hated to admit it, he was strangely comfortable in the position. And his caretaker didn't seem to be loosening up, even in his sleep.

Arthur heaved another sigh. There was no helping it. He snuggled up just a little bit more, feeling his fatigue from the pneumonia creeping up on him. Arthur gave in to the feeling, falling asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

(( Hello! Last chapter! Makes me sad to finish this up… But I must. Tomorrow I'll post the super special awesome bonus chapter! So be sure to check back later for the cuteness.

Anyways, thanks for reading this fanfic! I really enjoyed your commentary and involvement in the story. And there is no way in hell that I'm not going to post any more fics for AmericaxEngland. So be sure to stop by sometime, or keep an eye out on the Hetalia fanfic page.

I talk too much, so let me stop. Final Chapter… commence! ))

:::

"Maybe I should go get some cough medicine," Alfred suggested. That was something he forgot to do when he went shopping. "I can pick up some takeout for dinner on the way back."

Arthur was sitting quietly on his couch with the TV on, looking somewhat embarrassed about the little nap they shared. "I guess," he muttered.

America smiled, pleased with making the suggestion. "Alright! Then I'll be right back in a flash," he said, pulling on his jacket left on the nearby chair.

"Oi, wait up," England protested, standing. "I want to go, too."

"That isn't a good idea…"

"I feel much better now. Besides, it's not like we're going to run around or anything," he argued. Without waiting for an answer, Arthur left Alfred to go get changed into regular clothes in his room.

Alfred sighed with a smile. If he suddenly left now, he knew that England would be even more sour than usual when America returned. And… that was the last thing that he wanted. Not to mention that he felt a bit dizzy for some reason.

Only a few minutes later, Arthur came back with a button-up dress shirt and nice slacks on. He went to grab his coat in the coat closet nearby the front door as Alfred waited for him a bit impatiently. As soon as they were both ready, Alfred went to open the door for Arthur, then closed it as soon as they were outside.

England gave a slight shiver, though it wasn't as bad as the day he came home from the hospital. America dug the keys out of his pocket to unlock the rental car's doors, allowing them to get inside.

For a while, Alfred drove towards a part of the town, which had a drugstore and several places to eat. The two didn't speak a word to each other the whole way, though Arthur would give a few rough coughs occasionally. Alfred couldn't help but wonder if the other was angry with him. He was just trying to be helpful by making Arthur comfortable earlier.

Soon enough, they reached a drugstore from a common chain. "I'll be right back," Alfred said, getting out of the car before Arthur could protest.

…

After drinking a little bit of cough syrup, England said right away, "I want to go to the local bar."

America gave a sigh as he drove along the main road. "I don't think that's a good idea… You're not supposed to drink while taking those medications," he responded.

England glared at him. "I won't drink, you git. We can get something to eat there."

Alfred didn't tell him the real reason why he didn't want to go. "Can we go to a different bar or pub or something?" he hesitantly asked.

"No. I'm a regular there, but I haven't gone in about two to three weeks. They might think I'm dead," Arthur argued.

"But…"

"Alfred… please," England said through gritted teeth.

Although America had control of the car, he knew that he couldn't refuse the other. Especially after he used the magic word. "Fine," he sighed. He wanted to go back to the house to lay down a bit, feeling a little bit warm and susceptible to the chill in the air.

In a few minutes, Alfred arrived at the right place, parking the car in front. It was starting to get a bit dark out, although there weren't too many other cars. They got out, America keeping a close eye on England to make sure he was actually well enough to be here.

As they entered, the bartender and a few waitresses welcomed them. Of course they knew who Arthur was. Alfred shyly filed in behind him as one of the nice women took the two to a booth towards the back.

"Why do you look so bloody nervous?" Arthur angrily asked the other as Alfred squirmed in his seat.

"Eh? It's nothing! Heroes never get nervous!" he proclaimed, puffing out his chest. Though, seeing a waitress and the bartender whispering to each other, he deflated with a nervous sigh. Arthur eyed him suspiciously.

In less than ten minutes, their orders had been placed. Without anything bad happening.

"I might have to go home soon," America informed England.

That caught Arthur's attention. Though he had been enjoying the company and service of his former colony for close to a week now, he knew that America had his own work and duties to fulfill back home. And now that Arthur was through the worst of his pneumonia, he could probably take care of himself.

Alfred noticed the expression on the other's face. England was always the sort of guy to wear his emotions on his sleeve, whether America noticed or not. More often not.

"But you can always call me if you need help. I'll come flying over to your rescue like a true superhero," Alfred offered with a determined smile.

"Like I need your help," Arthur scoffed. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I know that," Alfred laughed.

They went silent again as dinner was brought out to them. Alfred ate really fast as usual, and Arthur slowly ate. Arthur knew that he probably wouldn't be able to eat it all, since his regular appetite was only just starting to return. Not only that, but for some reason, he felt a bit queasy. And it probably wasn't from his illness.

"How is everything?" the waitress came by to ask. With their mouths full at the moment, the two just nodded. "Great. It's good to see you again, by the way. We were afraid that you weren't going to come back, after almost a month ago and all."

"Hm? What do you mean?" Arthur asked after swallowing.

The waitress blushed just a little. "Well… you did seem a little… 'off' that night. But you don't have to be embarrassed! We are understanding here an all… So you don't have to worry about us thinking…" she tried to explain. Feeling ridiculous for saying anything, she messily raked a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry! Maybe I've got it all wrong. I'm sorry." The waitress apologized nervously and rushed away.

Very confused at this point, England turned to look at America again. Who was also a bit red in the face while squirming in his seat. "What is going on?" Arthur demanded to know.

"It's nothing. It's in the past, so don't worry about it," Alfred said, trying to shrug this topic off.

"Tell me," Arthur said.

"No."

"America…"

"Uh-uh. Forget about it."

"Tell me."

"But-"

"Now."

Alfred sighed, looking away with an embarrassed look still on his face.

_It was another night at England's regular bar. Another night as in, Arthur had too much to drink again while Alfred teased him just a little while trying to socialize with other people._

"_No, I'm okay now! Like a hero, I overcome any obstacle," America declared after someone asked about his health._

"_You're always wrapped up in being a bloody hero! It's annoying," England remarked. Though, his voice was slurred from the influence of alcohol. Namely, at least 5 bottles of beer._

_He was definitely the annoyed drunk tonight, ready to point out any and every annoyance and flaw._

"_Hahaha, you know that's untrue!" Alfred said, looking over and shoulder and away from the people he had been talking to._

"_It's true and you know it!" Though, Arthur's words went in one ear and out the other as Alfred was busy playing that game with swinging a ring tied to a string onto a hook screwed into a wall. The idiot never got enough of that simpleton bar game every since the owner set it up. "Will you pay attention to me? Stop playing around with that!"_

_America laughed. He was enjoying himself too much to let the other's sour mood to get him down tonight. Everyone was enjoying themselves, why shouldn't he?_

_Arthur was only getting more frustrated. He gritted his teeth in a frown. "Why won't you ever listen to what I want to say? I'll make you pay attention to me!"_

_England stood up from the bar stool, stumbling a bit. He sauntered over to America with a resolute expression on his face._

_In front of everyone, Arthur planted a hand on Alfred's shoulder. He grabbed tight then spun the other around to face him. England used his other hand to take hold of the back of America's neck. In one swift moment, he pulled Alfred's head down to him and planted a firm kiss on the other's lips. Though, it was apparent that that wasn't enough, as Arthur parted Alfred's lips with his tongue, probing deeper into America's mouth. After a few seconds, he finally let go and backed up._

_Everyone had went silent, unsure of what to do now as England looked up at a stunned America. He stared at him pleadingly for about five seconds, but then his eyes started to droop. Alfred quickly seized Arthur's shoulders as he passed out._

"_I think he had too much to drink," Alfred said with a smile as people had resumed to talking. The people that he had been hanging out with wished him well as he hiked England up onto his back and carried him out._

Arthur sat there blankly as his company finished recounting what happened. They sat there in a very uncomfortable silence for about a minute or two. England looked down a bit, thinking. He then pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket, and retrieved enough money for the bill and a large tip to place on the table. Without another word, Arthur quickly put on his jacket and got up from his seat, stumbling towards the door as the room spun a bit.

"W-wait," Alfred beckoned, though it didn't do anything. He quickly pulled on his own jacket then hurried after England as he left through the front door. He followed him outside as he walked straight past the car. America quickened his step, now worried. "Where are you going?" he asked, catching up.

"Home," Arthur quietly said as he headed across the parking lot and to the sidewalk.

"But, wait, you're walking! You can't walk all the way there," Alfred protested.

He received no reply. A bit frustrated, America got right in front of his upset friend and took hold of his upper arms.

"Let go, you bloody moron," Arthur demanded, struggling to break free.

"You can't walk home. You're still a bit sick," Alfred argued, not letting go.

"Just leave me alone!"

"No!" America shouted, causing the other to pause in surprise. "… Are you upset with me? Or angry?"

England simply looked away with a frown.

"Or are you embarrassed?" Alfred realized. "You don't have to be ashamed. You didn't mean to kiss me, right? You were drunk…"

Instantly, Arthur snapped his attention back to Alfred as his cheeks went red and a hurt look grew on his face.

America let go and stepped back as he felt his own face heat up a bit. "You…"

"Let's go home," England said, interrupting him. He turned around to face the direction of the car for a few seconds, trying to think of something to say to get rid of this feeling. Anything.

Suddenly, he felt Alfred lean on his bad. Arthur groaned, "Oi. Don't get sappy on me or anything." But the weight of the other's body slid off of him as America collapsed to the ground. Alarmed, England turned around and noticed that his partner was unconscious. "Hey! Hey!" He tried to rouse him, then went to feel his forehead. He had gone from warm to hot.

His fever must have gotten a bit worse since earlier that day. Thoroughly worried now, Arthur yanked up the other's arm over his shoulder to lift him to his feet. England supported America back to the car, retrieving the keys from his coat pocket.

…

Alfred lay on his back in the guest room bed, squinting in the sunlight pouring in through the window. He rubbed the sleepy dust from his eyes, trying to remember what happened last night. He reached over towards the side table for his glasses, but paused.

Arthur was sitting in a chair beside his bed, leaning back with his arms crossed as he slept. America stared at him for a moment as memories of last night flooded into his mind. What was he supposed to do now?

Finally, he sat up while parting the covers. He quickly picked up his glasses and put them on. Hesitantly, Alfred went to poke Arthur's leg. After a few more pokes, he woke up. England looked around in confusion, gaining his bearings.

"Good morning," Alfred greeted.

"… Good morning," Arthur quietly said back. There was yet another silence between them for another few seconds before he finally continued, "You should have been more careful! If you weren't feeling well, then you shouldn't have pushed yourself. You let your own health decline while taking care of mine. Dolt. What if had you gotten us into a car accident last night?!"

America stared at him, then broke out into a broad grin. England blushed as the other said, "You always worry about me. I'm a hero! I'll be fine."

"That's what worries me! You think that nothing will happen to you!"

America only laughed at him.

…

After a good breakfast, Alfred was ready to leave. He had his jacket on, the car keys ready, and anything he brought with him crammed into his pockets.

"If you're still unwell, you can stay a bit longer," England stated, matter-of-factly.

"I have to be getting back now, though. Before too much stuff piles up. Besides, it's nothing I can't sleep off on the plane or at home." America went to the front door and opened it as England followed.

Before Alfred got too far, Arthur said, "Wait…" America paused, then turned around to look at him in confusion. "Well… I'm sorry. About that other day and such. I drank too much, so…"

"… It's okay," Alfred said, shrugging it off. "I understand now."

England smiled with relief, looking down. "Don't hesitate to come visit again. Okay?"

All of a sudden, Alfred got up close to him. He leaned over and quickly kissed Arthur right on the lips. And he meant it. With a blush on his face, America jogged away down the front walkway. Arthur went beet red, flustered.

But before America could leave… "Hey England!" he called out. "Do you remember that night? Remember how I wanted to go out because I said I was feeling better?"

Arthur looked away for a second, trying to think back through all the emotions swirling around through his head at the moment. "Y-yeah. I think so," he called back. Then, it dawned on him.

"I was getting over the flu epidemic, remember?!" He had a big, sheepish grin on his face.

"Y-you mean… This was all your fault! I got sick because of you!" Arthur looked really pissed off now.

"Bye~!"

"Get out of here before I throw something at you, you bloody idiot!"

Alfred jogged away towards the car, laughing as he always did.

As Arthur watched him drive away, he felt a warm smile spread across his face. "You fool."

:::

(( And that's it! Sorry for the not-so-consistent updates. I hope you enjoyed this story!

But make sure to check back tomorrow for the surprise bonus chapter! After that, this fanfic has wrapped up to a close. Thanks so much for reading! ))


	6. Bonus Chapter

(( Bonus chapter! Thanks for all the favorites, watches, and comments! As a reward, here's just a little extra chapter of fluff fluff fluff. Just a cute idea that I thought of, and decided to add to this story as extra stuff.

You guys deserved this. I hope that you enjoy it!

Bonus chapter… commence!))

:::

Arthur paced back and forth in the hallway outside of the room. He looked really nervous, as he tried to keep as quiet as possible to listen for any sort of noise. If anything happened, he would be right there. If he were needed, he would be right there.

Caving in to his worry, England quietly pushed the bedroom door open a bit more to peek through. Just like when he had checked last time, less than ten minutes ago, America was still in bed. He slept restlessly through his fever, his small body curled up under the covers of the over-sized bed.

Arthur sighed, and consigned himself back to waiting in the hallway while pulling the door closed behind himself. It took willpower not to turn around and look again when he heard a few small coughs come from the darkness of the room.

He hated this feeling. The anxiousness and concern gnawed at his insides like the sensation of hunger. True, the doctor said that Alfred would feel better with some rest and nutritious food, but it was still hard to see the little ball of energy so debilitated at the moment. He never knew how strange it would be to have a sunny day without a small child running around and causing all sorts of mischief. This was the first time he had ever had to take care of a sick child.

Suddenly, he heard his name being faintly called out. Without hesitation, Arthur hastily left his post to join the younger boy.

"I'm here, what's wrong?" he quietly and tenderly asked while kneeling down beside the bed.

Alfred stared at him through tired, half-lidded eyes. "My throat hurts," he quietly whined.

"Then I'll get some cold water for you, alright?" Arthur offered.

As he went to leave, he was stopped by another complaint, "I can't sleep. I want to go with you…"

England sighed. "You would be better off resting in bed," he said.

"No. It's too quiet. I want to go with you," America whimpered.

Arthur knew that he wouldn't be able to say no to the poor thing anymore. He just looked so pathetic and sad. With a sigh, he went to retrieve a soft blanket from nearby. Alfred sat up on his own as Arthur went to wrap the blanket around him.

America lifted up his arms while opening and closing his hands, signaling that he wanted to be picked up and carried. With a smile, England complied, gently lifting Alfred off the bed to be held close to his chest, slightly upright. The kid held on tight to the other's shirt as he slowly walked out of the room and down to the kitchen. Alfred squinted a bit in the light.

Keeping a firm hold on Alfred with one arm, Arthur used his free one to retrieve a cup. He then poured some water from the pitcher he brought in earlier into the cup. It was relatively cool, instead of being room temperature. Setting down the pitcher again, Arthur held the glass for Alfred as he gulped it down.

"How is that? Do you feel better?" he worriedly asked.

America nodded in return, burying his face into England's shoulder.

Arthur smiled. "It's a nice day today. Let's get some fresh air." He carried the little boy outside to his back porch, and took a seat on one of the chairs in the shade. Everything outside was dry now, since it stopped raining yesterday. He relaxed backwards a bit so America would be laying down on his chest. He made sure that the blanket was still covering him, except for his head and the small fist firmly grasping his shirt.

Alfred was tired, but he kept his eyes open, staring off into space.

Arthur gazed at him, and heaved a sigh. "I told you that playing outside in the rain and mud was a bad idea," he chastised. "See what happened?"

America curled up a bit, looking more miserable now. It made England instantly feel bad for bringing up the subject. As an apology, he rubbed Alfred's back comfortingly. The little boy closed his eyes, succumbing to his exhaustion and slight fever.

About five minutes later, Arthur decided that he should bring America back inside. The poor thing was started to shiver. He gingerly stood up, and hiked the child up a little while giving his back a pat or two.

Alfred's eyes opened up again, and he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Back to your room, of course," the other answered.

"I don't want to," he instantly responded.

"The more you rest in bed, the sooner you'll feel better," England explained.

"No," America whined, his big blue eyes starting to tear up. "I don't want to!"

"I'm sorry, kid. But I'm only thinking about your health."

"No~oo… I don't want to… I don't want to go to bed," Alfred sobbed, getting upset and crying. "I don't want to go to bed!"

"Sorry, big bad England says so. God forbid, he thinks about making you well again," Arthur teased, as he felt guilty. America continued to cry, getting tears and runny snot soaked into his caregiver's shoulder. He persisted to hoarsely whine and hiccup and sob until they reached his room again.

While keeping a firm embrace around the young nation, Arthur slipped off his own shoes at the bedside, and then unwrapped the blanket. Alfred started to grow quiet, watching England. He looked a bit surprised as England lay him down, then knelt on the edge to pull the covers away. With a grunt, he collapsed down beside America, and pulled the sheet and blanket over the both of them.

Arthur wiped away the child's tears for him with his sleeve as Alfred said, "But… you're not sick. Why are you laying down?"

"Taking care of you has made me tired," England explained with a yawn. "You don't mind if I share the bed with you, do you?"

America stared up at him, then quickly shook his head with a smile. He nestled up to England as the other adjusted his own position to hold the little boy.

In no time at all, Alfred was asleep with a faint smile on his face. Arthur smiled at this, then allowed himself to drift off into a nap.

:::

(( Thanks for reading, everyone! I'll try to write another fic with this pairing as soon as I come up with an idea. Thanks for your commentary and support! ))


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